


How to Become a God

by Rukazaya



Series: How to become a god [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rukazaya/pseuds/Rukazaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU cyberpunk world where Izaya and Tsukumoya must team up to finish a mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Become a God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Immicolia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immicolia/gifts).



**Durarara!! fanfic: Part one of "HOW TO BECOME A GOD" series**

**Written by: Rukawagf**

**Title: How to become a god**  
 **Rating:**  G  
 **Pairing:** Tsukumoya Shinichi x Orihara Izaya + Heiwajima Shizuo

**Dedicated to:**  Immicolia.

I had a writer’s block so I asked Immi for a prompt. A quick writing exercise which became a bit longer than a drabble. 

**Summary:**  AU cyberpunk world where Izaya and Tsukumoya must team up to finish a mission

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
Neon lights flickered in the dark alley of the broken down buildings left and right of the detoriating Tokyo-3. There were littered chips and broken auto parts everywhere, out dated nanobytes that were more useless skelearmors two generations old.   
  
“Tsukumoya. Do you copy?” the informant whispered as his finger tapped at left ear connected to his head gear. He saw through the dark shades that gave him a better night vision.   
  
“Loud but not so clear. There's a interference up ahead.”  
  
The information broker sighed. He didn't like this. The filthy stale smell lingered in the air that stank of rust and oil. His thigh high boots and long black trench coat with fur trims were stained with muck. The 84th street was never known to be safe but it was the best place to access the blue pills.   
  
“Orihara. Turn left here. The map shows a passageway.”  
  
The informant, Orihara Izaya stopped in the middle of his brisk walk to touch the metal wall to his left with his leather gloved hand. Sure there was a solid wall next to him but... as annoying as his A.I. was, Tsukumoya was never wrong.   
  
Izaya felt the surface until he saw his hand dip through. Izaya looked around both ways before he entered.   
  
Inside was a totally different world from the outside. Loud music, bright lights, smell of cheap booze, sweat and musky sex... there were men and women, cyborgs and half humanoids getting high or just humping each other along the corridor. There was a stage in the middle with the lead singer of the underground band screaming his lungs out. Izaya rolled his eyes in disgust. He quickly moved away from the center stage and the masses dancing and screaming to quickly find himself a dealer.   
  
To one corner was the man he was looking for. Or rather, a cyborg. His entire body was made out of cheap alloy robot, only his brain was cased in a glass head. It was typical of druggies who destroy their bodies and had to resort to cybernetics.   
  
“The blue pill.” Izaya said straightforwardly.   
  
“That'll be thirty seven thousand CP.”   
  
The informant gave him the amount in exchange of the blue pill. Then he stepped inside the room lined up with rusty chairs, cushions worn out from wear and the headgear that looked a decade old. Izaya sighed at the poor condition but he took a spot and laid down. He popped the pill in, placed the round helmet gear on top of his head and closed his eyes. Izaya grunted and flinched as the cables connected to the back of his neck and one by one down his spine, reconnecting his nerves to the system. He grit his teeth at the last and final attachment of the nerve needles straight into his back, his entire body going numb with brief shock and pain, his legs trembling a bit.  
  
“Tsukumoya... you could have done that a bit  _lighter..._ ” Izaya hissed. But there was no response. Clearly his A.I. was having too much fun.   
  
But the old system was warming up already and Izaya relaxed soon enough. It was like going to sleep, he told himself, the pill working its way inside his body. And soon he was transported as sleep took over.

* * *

 

  
“Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. Year 2010.”   
  
Izaya blinked open his eyes at Tsukumoya's cheeky wake up call. It wasn't as if he didn't know where he was going. He looked around the busy familiar yet unfamiliar street of Tokyo. There were men and women in business suits walking briskly to work as they passed the four way intersection. Izaya had appeared right in the middle of it it seemed. The informant checked his clothes to make sure his outfit fit in with the fashion of this era. His long metal boots were replaced with simple but comfortable business shoes, his trench coat into a furt coat more to his liking, his armored plates were just simple cotton shirts along with his plastic pants, just black jeans.  
  
This was the Old Tokyo, the Tokyo before the ruins and the decline.  
  
Izaya took out his cellphone and dialed the hotline. “And our target?”   
  
“Just up ahead. Nervous, Orihara?”   
  
“We've done this enough times. It'll be fine.” Izaya was tempted to hang up on his A.I. but he needed the cocky bastard.  
  
The information Izaya needed was in the past. Many people used the blue pills just to relive the past fantasy but informants like Izaya had used it for other means.   
  
“Did you hack the password to the chatroom by now?” Izaya continued to talk as he moved through.  
  
“On it. Just watch out for your little monster. We don't want to be caught today.”  
  
“The damn protozoan can  _smell_  me and I don't even fucking get how.” Izaya growled as he ran through the streets of old Ikebukuro. His fur hoodie bounced behind him. The wind brushed against his hair as if the city was welcoming him back. Ikebukuro of the 2000s was his second home to him by now.   
  
He quickly ran to his designated meeting place, the abandoned building where Awakusu-kai held their clandestine meetings often. Izaya signed in relief. Almost 99% of the time, Heiwajima Shizuo, Ikebukuro's guard dog always sniffed him out and chased him away from the city. Then Izaya wouldn't have the time to finish his mission before the effects of the blue pill wore off.  
  
Izaya moved the heavy crates with a groan in the dusty warehouse, grumbling, “I wish you had a physical body, Tsukumoya.”  
  
“Well Orihara, if I did I'd still be giving you directions as to what to do instead of giving you a hand.”  
  
“You know, I should have told that old man to program you to calling me master. Seriously, oof... where did you get that attitude from?”  
  
“You naturally. You asked my master to program me to be as intelligent as you are and thus I was created. Truly you have no one to blame but yourself in this you know.”  
  
Izaya sighed, rolling his eyes as he gave the crate a last push and opened the top. In it was the device that the informant needed. He pulled it out and switched it on. Izaya checked his watch. Good, he still had ten more minutes.

As the device was turned on, the hologram image of Tsukumoya Shinichi appeared. Izaya did not understand why but at certain missions it was easier for Tsukumoya to have an image projected while he worked. The silver haired young man started poking and turning the device in the air as he analyzed it.  
  
“And? Was this the right one?” Izaya leaned against the wall and rested his sore body as he watched his A.I. do his work.   
  
“Negative. Unfortunately you were duped by Yodogiri Jinnai once more.” Tsukumoya shook his head and sighed reluctantly.  
  
Izaya cursed as he slumped back.  
  
“All that for nothing again.”  
  
“We'll find it. The key to immortality exists only in this era after all.”   
  
Izaya blinked in surprised at Tsukumoya's comforting words as they are rare. Then the hologram sat next to him, leaning against the wall too.  
  
“How many more minutes left?” Izaya felt all the energy drain from his body. He was too tired to even check his watch.  
  
“We have three more minutes in this world.” Tsukumoya automatically calculated for him.  
  
“Heh, can't even go get sushi at Russia Sushi... this sucks.”  
  
“Did you want to go look at your beloved human of this era?” Tsukumoya offered.  
  
“....” Izaya thought for a moment. “It's fine. Two whole minutes is barely worth anything. I wish the scenery here was at worthwhile. It's nothing but old crates and dust.” Izaya sighed disappointed. The informant saw the ghostly arm wrap around his shoulder and the hologram kiss his temple. Izaya felt nothing of course but he thought he felt a light static there where the friction occurred.  
  
“We'll find it, Orihara.”  
  
Izaya closed his eyes and leaned against the hologram while he waited out his minutes alone in the empty warehouse.   
  
\----  
  
  
  
\--the end

 

**Author's Note:**

> author's note (Rukawagf): This is a part of a collab with Immicolia. Basically I write a chapter and she writes a chapter then i write a following chapter etc. Thank you for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [An Exceptionally Useful Tool](https://archiveofourown.org/works/830679) by [Immicolia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immicolia/pseuds/Immicolia)




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